


Hazey

by fideliahoney



Category: NCT (Band), SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Fever Dreams, Freeform, M/M, Ten is a giver in this, Weirdness, a passion fruit appears, jungle aesthetics, so does a blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:14:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28906206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fideliahoney/pseuds/fideliahoney
Summary: Taeyong has a fever dream.
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	Hazey

**Author's Note:**

> this was heavily inspired by Glass Animals' Zaba album.  
> the weirdness tag is to be taken seriously I guess.  
> enjoy~

Taeyong wakes to the pitter-patter sound of water dripping from the ceiling. His eyes snap open, lids still sticky with sleep, slowly adjusting to the darkness. Something wet hits his cheek. He wipes at his face and then licks his hand. Water, he determines just as another drop lands on his face. Taeyong peels off his sheets and sits up to take a look at his room. His breath hitches quietly.

A huge tree fern grows right next to his bed, feathery leaves heavy with droplets of water. He can’t make out his ceiling, panels replaced by a tight canopy of green. There are vines wrapping around his desk and an exotic red flower rises from the pile of anatomy books to his left. Taeyong places both feet on the ground and it feels soft, warm, damp, earthen. He gets up and takes a tentative step towards the center of the room, where lianas dangle from the branches spanning across the tree canopy. Carefully, Taeyong pulls one of them and causes a swarm of fireflies to stir, buzzing from above and towards where his window used to be. In the soft light radiating from their tiny bodies, a wondrous sight stretches out in front of him.

The walls are gone. Instead, his room is framed by the stems of foreign trees, grass growing taller than his hips, bushes blossoming in rich colors and thick, green-patterned leaves. A light mist hangs in the humid air. Taeyong inhales slowly and pinches his forearm. Nothing about his surroundings changes, but he feels a layer of sweat covering his skin, so he slips off his damp shirt. A hushed snicker echoes through the soundscape of dripping water and faraway bird calls.

Taeyong freezes instantly. Until now, he felt wonder rather than fear, but the idea of another human at close quarters makes his skin crawl. Taking a wary look at the jungle around him, Taeyong reminds himself that this is a dream, and that he has nothing to fear. Then he notices a soft glow through the leaves from where his kitchen should be. He treads carefully towards an opening in the thick bushes, pushes aside a delicate branch of fragrant flowers and steps onto some sort of clearing.

The clearing indeed resembles his kitchen. Cabinets overgrown with moss and vines, both furniture and plants glow coldly in the dim light of the neon lamp above the stove. A couple of moths cast fluttering shadows on the fridge. Finally, Taeyong’s eyes are drawn to his kitchen table and then he freezes all over again, because he is not alone. Lounging confidently on the plastic chair, a shirtless man is looking up at Taeyong with a feline smile and hair as black as the midnight sky.

“So, you found me,” he drawls lazily.

Taeyong wraps his arms around his naked torso. The stranger’s smile shifts from feline to predatory.

“You already took off your shirt, how considerate.”

“Why are you in my kitchen?”

“I think it’s because you want me to be.”

The stranger gets up and licks his lips, dark eyes never straying from Taeyong’s face. Taeyong just stares back wide-eyed. He is noticing the pointed ears now and the way the stranger’s skin seems to glitter as he moves, iridescent. His otherworldly allure is making Taeyong dizzy.

“I don’t think I understand.”

“This isn’t about understanding, it’s about feeling.” The beautiful stranger flexes a toned arm and then reaches up to pluck a fruit from the ceiling. “I don’t understand why either, but this is supposed to taste amazing.”

With a wicked grin, he shakes the fruit and then tosses it to Taeyong. Taeyong catches without looking, feeling hazey under his observant gaze and breathing in the rich scent of the jungle.

“How do I eat this? What is your name?” he asks.

“You slice through the skin and then sip the soft flesh on the inside. It’s called a purple granadilla, or passion fruit. I’m mostly called Ten.”

Lifting the fruit to his mouth, Taeyong rolls the unfamiliar name off his tongue. Ten hisses at that and swats his hand away, and his skin all but sizzles where they touched.

“I just told you you can’t eat the skin, silly.” The air around Ten seems to fluoresce as he speaks. He takes the fruit from Taeyong and then rips it apart with strong fingers and nails like claws. Slippery yellow seeds spill over his hands, causing him to purse his lips in disgust.

“Ugh, I hate fruit. Lick it off,” Ten says without hesitation. Taeyong flushes pink.

“I- pardon?”

“I’m not asking twice.”

The clearing around Taeyong starts spinning, so he focuses on Ten’s hand in front of his face and tentatively pokes out his tongue. As soon as he laps up the first bits of sticky pulp, his eyes widen in surprise. The taste is rich and sour and delicious, so Taeyong continues to suck on Ten’s fingers until they look clean in the dim lighting.

“This was really good,” he murmurs.

Ten just chuckles and places his hand on Taeyong’s jaw, gripping him firmly.

“I told you so.”

His dark eyes are sparkling with mischief and the way the corners of his lips are curling upwards reminds Taeyong of a cat again, lazy and confident. Ten doesn’t look like he minds the climate, he notices, suddenly hyper-aware of the heat. A bead of sweat trickles down his neck. Without warning, Ten leans in and licks it off, the feeling of his tongue cool and rough against Taeyong’s skin.

 _Oh_ , Taeyong thinks and closes his eyes. Velvety colors explode in his mind as a soft pair of lips travels up the column of his throat.

“You also taste good,” Ten whispers, hot breath an intoxicating contrast to the pleasant chill that his shimmering body radiates. “I want to taste more of you.” 

“Is this a fever dream?”

“I guess so. I can feel you burning up, beautiful.” Ten snickers and grabs his hair, pulling his head back and exposing his pale throat even further. Taeyong’s mouth falls open. When their eyes meet, it’s black on black.

“That’s not because of the fever,” Taeyong grits out and then his own hands tangle in Ten’s hair to pull him in for a messy kiss.

It feels different from the kisses Taeyong knows, like every touch enhances his senses. Something static crackles in the air around them and Taeyong feels weightless as Ten lifts him up to press his back into the fridge. He wraps his legs around Ten’s waist, leaning back against the slippery chrome surface and swatting at a stray firefly. There is nothing gentle about the way their mouths slide against each other – Ten’s teeth are sharp and his tongue is rough and Taeyong absolutely loves it. He doesn’t really know if he is still being pressed into the fridge or if he is laying down, because his eyes are closed and his sense of direction is lost to the feeling of cool hands sliding over his burning skin everywhere at once.

“Ten,” he sighs and flutters his eyelids open. When he regains focus, he can see Ten’s face hovering just inches from his own, framed by unfurling leaves of fern.

“Stay with me for a little while longer, okay?” Ten smirks and exposes his sharp teeth.

Taeyong nods. This is his bed, of course he is staying. He lifts both hands to touch the pointy tips of Ten’s ears and lets go with a startled yelp as Ten pinches his nipples in response. Taeyong only then realizes how he is being straddled and he flushes at the way the other continues to circle his nipples with his thumbs. A drop of water from above lands on Ten’s upper lip and he licks it off casually, but something about it just looks so hot that Taeyong can’t help but moan. Ten’s gaze darkens.

“You are kind of rushing this, aren’t you?”

His voice is low and sultry and it resonates through the forest around them like Ten belongs there. He slides further down the bed, all the while nipping and sucking on the soft skin of Taeyong’s chest and stomach. A slow heat trickles through Taeyong’s veins. He swipes across his spit-slick chest and his hand comes up tinged with a soft glimmer. Eyes wide, Taeyong inhales sharply as Ten licks up a wet strip from the base to the tip of his erection.

“Wait, why am I naked?” he asks, confused voice giving way to a groan when Ten starts to swallow him down and swirls his tongue around the head. He pulls off with a pop.

“I’m guessing because you want to be?”

“This doesn’t make sense,” he complains weakly. Not like there is much to complain about anyway, with Ten expertly hollowing his cheeks and pressing his cool, strangely rough tongue to the slit with just the right amount of pressure. Images flicker through Taeyong’s mind, of fireflies and curling vines. His entire body feels slippery with sweat. It is no longer Ten’s mouth wrapping around his cock, but he is being swallowed up by a large hibiscus blossom instead.

“Ten,” Taeyong breathes out and cold hands curl around his own as his body shakes with the sudden effort of his orgasm. For a moment, Taeyong feels infinite. Then a soothing voice melts through the haze in his mind.

“Well done, precious. Look at you, all flushed and healthy!”

His thoughts feel like honey, slow and sticky and evasive. They are still holding hands. Although Taeyong can’t bring himself to open his eyes, he really wants to touch Ten more.

“Can I,” he starts and then clears his throat. Everything is warm. “I want to touch you, too?”

“Aww, I don’t think so,” Ten all but purrs. “You need to be able to concentrate if you want to manifest my body. Are you even sure about the kind of pants I am wearing?”

Taeyong doesn’t know what that means, so he just asks, “You’re wearing pants?”

Ten chuckles. Taeyong genuinely wants to take a look at him but his eyelids are so, _so_ heavy. Ten’s hands slip out of his grasp and cool lips brush across his damp forehead.

“Sleep now, beautiful. We might meet again in your dreams.”

Are you a dream, Taeyong thinks just as the ground seems to pull away from underneath him. He loses consciousness before he gets a chance to articulate his thought to the pitter-patter sound of water dripping from the ceiling.

When he wakes up in his bed hours later, the fever is gone, and so is the jungle. He is wearing his pajamas and no sign of water damage stains his room. Taeyong sits up and pinches his arm firmly.

“Ouch!” he squawks before grimacing at his own stupidity. He gets up slowly and notices with relief that the dizziness and headache he had been dealing with for the last couple of days have indeed worn off. The memory of his vivid dream raises a blush to his cheeks. Taking in the surroundings he has grown so accustomed to, Taeyong’s eyes land on the small glass vial on his desk right next to his notes for internal medicine.

He moves to pick it up. His grandma had sent the home-made medication to him yesterday after hearing about her grandson coming down with the flu, and he smiles fondly. She never lists the ingredients she uses, something they always argue over at family dinners. Not like she trusts the academic medicine Taeyong studies, either.

Inspecting the small vial a little closer, he wonders. Did he miscalculate last night, taking too high of a dose? Was his fever dream a coincidence, or is there a chance of meeting Ten again if he takes another spoonful…?

Taeyong laughs then, quietly and to himself, because he is being ridiculous. He chooses to ignore the unfamiliar warmth in his chest and puts the vial down with an air of finality. Only when he pulls away does he notice the iridescent glimmer still coating his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are love!


End file.
